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Posts Tagged ‘healing’

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As Jesus left the house, he was followed by two blind men crying out, “Mercy, Son of David! Mercy on us!” When Jesus got home, the blind men went in with him. Jesus said to them, “Do you really believe I can do this?” They said, “Why, yes, Master!” He touched their eyes and said, “Become what you believe.” It happened. They saw. (Matthew 9:27-28 MSG)

 It was a journey. An agonizing process that at times seemed interminable. But, on a certain day in 2015, a prayed for…cried over…hoped for transformation occurred in the deepest part of who I was. God had scrubbed and swept the dark places, gathered the pieces of my brokenness into his hands, and reshaped that which seemed impossibly shattered into a complete, healed woman.

It happened. I could feel the difference—inside of that place where people are their most human.

This was no small feat—after more than forty years, 1,460 days, and 2, 102, 400 minutes—this was a miracle that defied explanation. I am convinced that God walked into the moment and heard my cries for mercy…grace…restoration.

In that moment, I became.

Now, I’m reading Christ’s words…feeling His heartache as He traveled from place to place.

“35 Jesus traveled around through all the cities and villages of that area, teaching in the Jewish synagogues and announcing the Good News about the Kingdom. And wherever he went he healed people of every sort of illness. 36 And what pity he felt for the crowds that came, because their problems were so great and they didn’t know what to do or where to go for help. They were like sheep without a shepherd.

37 “The harvest is so great, and the workers are so few,” he told his disciples.38 “So pray to the one in charge of the harvesting, and ask him to recruit more workers for his harvest fields.”         (Matthew 9:35-38)

In every place, Christ encouraged…offered Himself…loved others—one by one.

The discarded? The helpless? The hopeless? These were God’s people! These were the one’s He stepped out of heaven to rescue—as they are today. And in a very personal way, Jesus changed lives. He’s changed mine.

Like the disciples following after Jesus—regular people surrounded by their own mess—I’ve experienced God do the unusual and the unexplainable. I just can’t keep Jesus to myself! How could I?

So I’m praying that in my touch-and-go following after Jesus I’ll imitate Him enough…care for others enough…offer love enough that others will see in my regular life the extraordinary, personal God who still moves…still works…still rescues—because the hurting and the lonely? The needy and broken? They need to meet Jesus, too—one by one—through me. Through you.

Will you join me?

 

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What matters more than material blessings are the things He is teaching us in our spirit.

Charles Stanley

It all began much earlier for him, but most of the nascent signs were quiet and crept into life bit by bit–a silent predator slowly introducing the victim to its presence. Then two years ago, the boy’s everyday life shifted with such suddenness there could be no doubt. Our son knew what it was to struggle with anxiety and depression.

Sleep oscillated between the extremes of non-existent and constant.  Recurring migraines…weight loss…lack of appetite. And my adventurous, full-throttle son retreated to a solitary world that seemed impenetrable.  Once in a great while I would catch a glimpse of the boy , but the cloud of oppression that hung over him was normally the more visible of the two.

There is no heartache quite like that a parent has for her suffering child and in my grief I confronted God.  I wept.  I raged. I begged.  I prayed.

Please, Lord, please!

After more than two years of trial and error…missed school days and fading dreams, we discovered the right combination of interventions and supports–not the least of which included medication.  Finally…some relief for the boy I had soothed with lullabies not so many years ago.

During this time, my boy continued to seek after God.  He wanted more of Jesus–and, unlike me, didn’t seem to struggle with blaming God for allowing this trial in his young life.  Despite the depression…regardless of the anxiety…in spite of the weariness.

One evening he returned from youth group, his face transformed by joy.

We asked God to heal me.  I don’t need my medicine anymore.

christian : Man worshiping god shot at yellow grass Stock Photo

I was skeptical…fearful…doubtful.  I believed in miracles, but this? A young man’s life could be at stake.

Slow and methodical in my response,  I have taken the “yes, but” approach to this precious boy’s healing. “Yes–God can heal, but…”

Yes, but…healing is not probable…practical…likely.

Yes, but…this could be temporary…time-inhibited…explainable.

Yes, but…are you sure you can sleep…function…manage?

And he continues to do well.  Feel well.  Live well.

I have begun to relate to the Bible verse, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” in ways I never expected.  And I wonder if any of you understand?  If you’ve lived it, too?  At some level, those of us who are Christians must grasp the mystery of such things–at least a little bit.

We trust in Jesus, after all.

Yes, but…a virgin birth is impossible…unimaginable…implausible.

Yes, but…a resurrected Messiah is unbelievable…incredible…miraculous.

Yes, but…can we know we are sanctified…rescued…redeemed?

Yes, but…He was born of a virgin, died on a cross, and rose again in three days.

Scripture for Reflection

Mark 9:24

Genesis 15:6

Isaiah 43:10

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He meant well.  They shouldn’t spend much time together.  She has a disorder–bipolar.  I winced when I heard the words because he didn’t know about us.  We understand the stigma…the struggle…the pain swelling on the inside–but still unseen.

Church….Christian…Pastor–there is already shame poured hot like coal on the one who suffers from the burden of festering pain.  And the one in six people in your midst clutches her own secret close to her chest–afraid to let you see her brokenness.  Or, perhaps, she fears revealing the truth about a husband or a child.  If she did would you whisper, “He’s depressed. Maybe your daughter shouldn’t spend time with him.”  Would you judge her?  If she believed more…prayed more…trusted more then God would heal the wound.

So when a friend condemns anti-depressants as a crutch but implores the Hurting to pray for faith, there is a problem in the Body because the Jesus I know came to heal the sick.  The Jesus I know came to remove the burden of a fallen world from the shoulders of those bent beneath its weight.  And the Jesus I know understands that mental illness is like any other–You, dear one, didn’t cause it.

There is no guilt in your struggle, dear one, just as there is no guilt with the one who has cancer.  Church, the one in six ask you to be Jesus today.

Speak truth.  The Church is the place for the suffering.

Love like Christ.  It’s not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. 

Give grace.  The nails in the tree set us free from the wounds of this world.  Our Today’s are for His glory.

And it is by grace we are saved!

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Forgotten memories– filtered long ago by a child’s fear and need for normalcy–have begun to emerge from the dark and hidden places of my mind. It’s as if a veil is being slowly removed and I see more of the landscape. Vision is no longer as limited.
So I wander back through time to revisit those dreaded places to be freed from their hold on my today’s and tomorrow’s. Fear settles heavy in my stomach, churning until my body releases it in desperation and I wish mother’s arms would seal the false promise that things are fine.

And today, I hear the words “to live courageously is to believe in God’s Grace.”

Do I believe? Honestly? Not always. But through and because of His grace on the cross, I choose to live as if I do. Circumstance never did –or ever will–force the absence of the One who is the Beginning and the End, mercy personified, glory revealed.

Are you the newlywed abandoned by your beloved? Are you the parent kneeling in prayer, wondering what you might have done differently? Do the faults of the past grasp at your heels with the tenacity of hell? There is freedom in His grace, Friend.

We can choose to live courageously–for Him and through Him–because He chose to die courageously for us.

Scripture for Reflection–“Courage, daughter.  You took a risk of faith and now you’re well.”  (Matthew 9:20-22 MSG)

 

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More often than not, my mornings consist of reminders, reprimands, and rushing.  Did you pack your jacket?  Change that attitude, little mister.  If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say it at all.  Then, my children scramble out the of the car–backpacks slung across their tiny shoulders.  I won’t see them again until the sound of the bell sends them rushing out of the building–laughing and ready for a snack.

As I pull away, I’m consumed by “mommy guilt”.  Did I remember to tell them I love them?  Were my words more than just directives or critiques?  Will they know they’re prayed for today?  Did I say anything nice?

There are times the guilt is well-earned.  Sometimes my words fail to build up my children, husband, friends, or even strangers I encounter.  As Proverbs 16:24 reminds us, “Pleasant words are a honeycomb,  sweet to the soul and healing to the bones.”

Tomorrow–whether I’m in the midst of the morning rush, the dinner hour, or the bedtime routine–I’m going to slow down enough to remind those around me of how important they are to me.  I’ll tell them they are a precious gift in this life.

Then, I’ll let the “mommy guilt” go–at least for the day.

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